Listen
by muggleborn.dragon.ryder
Summary: Jim Hawkins is happy. Eighteen years old, graduating from Interstellar Academy as a top student, surrounded by family and friends, the boy couldn't be happier. But the ceremony sets off an unexpected chain of events leading to seeing the two people he thought he never would again: Silver...and his father. Rated T just in case. Title might be changed later.


**Chapter 1: Leave Me Alone**

**Okay, so this is my new Treasure Planet fic! :D I hope it's up to snuff. At least I'm better at Treasure Planet than I am at Rise of the Guardians... **

* * *

Packed building, smiling faces. Tripping a bit over my gown, but regaining my balance. Each of us trying to strut confidently, trying to make it up to the stage to receive our diploma in an orderly and controlled manner. Trying to pretend we're mature.

The truth of our nervousness is written all over our faces, but nobody seems to care. I can see my mom in the crowd, I can see her smiling fit to burst as I wait, playing with my hands, staring at the people beginning to file out, waiting for my name to be called. I can see B.E.N beside her, his grin maybe a bit wider, although I really don't know how that's possible. Beside him, there's Morph who keeps floating around, shifting into me in my gown and squealing in excitement.

In the row behind them, there's Delbert and Amelia, both smiling slightly. Neither of them look nearly as excited as the people of the row in front, but then, I'm pretty sure they're both looking more forward to when the ceremony is over. I wouldn't blame them. I'm looking forward to the moment when my name is called.

Actually, to be precise, I'm looking forward to a few moments after that, because I'm getting nervous and I have butterflies in my stomach. I'm forced to sit there, playing with my hands as they call out what feel like a million other names before mine.

"Alex Gray!"

Alex hops off the stage and perfects that confident strut all the others are trying for, reaching out a hand. They release his diploma. They let him file quietly to the back of the room. My stomach clenches as I wait for my own name.

Another name is called, but my ears have gone strangely blocked, and I can't hear the name they just called. I shoot my gaze around, scanning the crowd again. I'm not even sure who I'm looking for.

"James Hawkins!"

My feet carry me forward. I trip down the steps and land on my knees. I know I should feel embarrassed, especially because the crowd gives a sympathetic titter, but I'm numb and my ears are ringing. I'm already on my feet again by the time I've registered that my body reacted before I did; my cheeks are hot, and I'm sure they're bright red.

My walk is not a strut. Alex Gray could probably have done better, but my legs won't quit carrying me forward. They make me stumble and trip, but I really don't care. This is almost over, almost done with. I'm really close.

I reach the principal, I meet his eyes. I even manage a bit of a smile as he hands me the diploma.

He pats me affectionately on the shoulder, kind of smiling. I nod at him and I practically run away, safely reaching the back of the room. Are my legs shaking? I think they are. I lean against the wall, staring up at the stage, but my mind is far from it now that I've made my journey.

* * *

The rest of the ceremony kind of passes in a blur. I know I stand at the back of the room and blink a lot, but I'm still not entirely sure what happens. I know I trip over my own feet ten times at least. I know that, at the end of the ceremony, the families swarm each other. And I know that, as my own family comes to join me, I think I see somebody I recognize slipping out the door, a strangely familiar black coat whipping out of sight.

I freeze, staring as the others come to join me. My grin slowly fading from my face, I wait for them, forcing a lie about how I thought I'd just seen one of my friends and how I really, really needed to talk to him. It isn't exactly a lie.

When they nod and peel off to get refreshments, I assume, I run off in the direction of the black coat, peering around. When the man appears in front of me again, my heart jumps into my throat. _Silver?! _

"S-silver," I stutter, taking a step forward. Why is my voice so quiet, and why am I suddenly nervous about seeing him? It's only been three years. Why should I be nervous?

And then the man turns, and it isn't him, and I let my hand drop to my side. Silver coming to see me graduate – yeah right.

But the black coat reminded me of that voyage three years ago. I haven't thought about that in such a long time. I lean against the wall for a second as the memories fill my head. Silver instructing me to wash the deck, me yelling at him when he talked about not letting me out of his sight. Silver and I standing at the stern, him smoking a pipe. Telling me it wasn't my fault. Me falling against him, him telling me I had the makings of greatness. Telling me I was going to rattle the stars someday.

_This is me rattling the stars as much as I can, _I think to myself, staring up at the speckled, black ceiling. _I just wish he was here to see this._

There comes a rough tap on my shoulder, and I turn to look at who's pulled me out of my reverie.

The older man looks familiar, but I couldn't place it at first glance. He reaches up and slowly brushes my hair out of my eyes for me, so I could see him better.

Touch has always made me uncomfortable, and I shudder slightly as his fingernails skim my head. I reach up to gently bat his hand away.

He lets it drop before I reach him, but he whispers, "James," so quietly I think he's speaking to himself.

"Yes," I nod. "That's…um…that's me." I offer him a smile. What do I do? Should I be formal, or not? He seems to know me…what do I do?

"James, I…" he hesitates. "I just wanted to see you again. And I wanted to ask—

And then his voice becomes familiar to me, way too familiar and suddenly I think I know who I'm looking at, only I won't say it. I just stand there, staring at him, trying to decide for myself if it's him or not.

"And I wanted you to know I'm sorry," he finishes solemnly, taking my hand and gripping it very tightly. He looks at me pleadingly, like he expects I'll feel sorry for him and tell him it's okay, but I won't. He left me and my mother on our own for six years. How in the hell could that ever be okay?

"Get away from me."

"James," he whispers, "I would like to get to know you again."

I give a short, humorless laugh. But I have to stop, because I think if I look at him any longer, I'm going to cry. "Again? When did you ever know me?"

And then I turn and start walking away, my heart pounding furiously in my chest, not from nervousness or fear, but from anger. I am not afraid of my father, but I am not interested in getting to know him. The only thing I'm interested in doing when it comes to him is staying as far away from him as possible at any given time.

"James, please give me a chance," he's breathing heavily as he attempts to keep pace with me, but I don't slow down. I turn to look at him once more, telling myself my eyes aren't wet. But they are, and somehow I don't think I'm going to cry because I'm upset. If I cry here, I'm going to cry angry tears, angry and frustrated tears, because why the hell can't he just leave me alone?

"I'm not interested in giving you a chance," I reply shortly. "In fact, I'd be a lot more interested in giving you a chance if maybe you had, I don't know, _stayed_?"

He winces. He takes a breath.

_Good, _I think angrily to myself. _I've hurt him, and made him angry, and maybe this will make him see that I don't need him. All I need from him is for him to leave me alone._

"I know it was wrong," he says quietly. "But I really do want to get to know you again. Is that so wrong?"

"I don't really care about whether what you want to do right now is right or wrong," I respond. "All I care about is that you leave me the hell alone. I have no interest in talking to you again, alright? Back off."

"James, please—

"You left us!" I manage to spit out. It comes out louder than I intend. I can sense people staring. "You left us, and now you want to come back here and screw everything up again? Leave me alone."

"Give me a chance."

"I gave you one!" Am I shouting? Is my voice rising? Are people really staring, or is that just my imagination? Right now, I really don't care. "I _gave_ you a chance back when I was a kid! Guess what, you blew it. You must not have cared that much about it back then, so why do you now?"

"James…" he spread his hands wide, like he had no explanation. "I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and I've begun to realize what a mess I've made and—

"Save it." I snap. "You left us, okay? Nothing can make up for what you did. Just leave me alone."

I'm pretty sure I'm stalking out of the building by this point. Should I wait for the others? I don't know. I don't care. All I know is every step takes me farther away from my father. And right now, that's really all I want.


End file.
